


One and the Same

by theorchidhorror



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: Gen, Mild Spoilers, lutece, pregame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorchidhorror/pseuds/theorchidhorror
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how Robert and Rosalind Lutece came to know each other, thanks to that one, fateful atom. (Contains very mild in-game spoilers.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hovering over the Morse code should provide you with the translation. Please let me know if not.

Many had said that her crowning achievement had been Columbia.

Certainly, Comstock had envisioned the project, but without  _her_  research, without  _her_  quantum atom- what would Columbia be but blueprints and the ravings of a man who fancies himself a visionary? No, Columbia was Comstock’s in name only. But the soul of the city- the very beating heart of Columbia, belonged to Rosalind Lutece.

And truly, a city suspended in the sky would be more than enough achievement for most physicists. Most of her contemporaries would be content with resting on their proverbial laurels- content with living a life in which they would never again study the structure of an atom, or devise hypotheses to experiment on. Most of them would be content to live a life dull as dishwater, being known only as “the physicist who discovered the quantum atom”.

But none of them were Rosalind Lutece, and she refused to let her career peak with Columbia.

~

Several months after the development of her quantum atom and the Lutece Field, came her next greatest discovery. It was just after breakfast- Rosalind’s tea still sat, steaming in the parlor, while she worked. She had been up most of the previous night, transcribing her notes for the day into a journal and, as a direct result, was feeling particularly sluggish. Had it not been for her fatigue, the physicist might have noticed the strange glow coming from her Field sooner.

It  _was_  normal, of course, for the Lutece Field to emit a sort of incandescent glow- the light waves were what allowed for easier study of the atom. But the glow of this particular atom, the light being projected from the Field, was far brighter and more brilliant than any of the previous specimens. And something about that struck her as curious. It wasn’t a deficiency in the machine- she had constructed it herself, oversaw every piece of machinery put in place in an effort to ensure that there wouldn’t be. And it surely wasn’t the atom; any deviation from the standard and- well, she wouldn’t be standing here staring at it, that’s for certain. No, there had to be some sort of… outside interference at work here. 

Against her better judgment, Rosalind stepped towards to the Field, abandoning her notes on a counter, peering at it as if the atom itself would explain the odd phenomenon to her. Then abruptly, the glow softened, appearing as it had the countless number of times beforehand, when she had studied without interruption. “Odd…” Straightening herself, Lutece frowned at the machine, for a moment beginning to doubt its reliability. It seemed normal enough now, and that in itself was incredibly frustrating; it meant Rosalind would have to put aside her research for the day to check and recheck the various components of the machine- to be absolutely sure it was still running at full capacity. With an irritable sigh, she grasped the power lever to the Field, throwing one last curious look to the atom still suspended within it.

Then, mere seconds before she could throw the switch, the brilliant light returned with a low hum. The physicist drew her lips into a tight line and stared almost angrily at the atom- it seemed to mock her with that damn blue glow it was so brilliantly casting on the whole room. Once had been an isolated event- something that could be explained with shifting magnetic poles or a particularly strong air current from below. But twice… now it was definitely a phenomenon.

“Damn it!”

She began pacing furious across the room, throwing a pen at nothing in particular. What could be causing it? Frantically, Rosalind listed off the possibilities: it could be a problem with the components of the machine (not likely, it was state of the art), or something about the weather (even less likely; she had operated the machine in worse conditions without incident. Besides, outside interference would hardly cause something this concerning). But then, as if flipping a switch, it hit her. Perhaps outside interference _was_  to blame.

Really, it was stupid of her to not think of it sooner. Multiple realities and alternate dimensions had long been a particular area of interest for Rosalind. The science on it was relatively sound- atoms were constants; if someone from another world were measuring the exact same atom at the exact same time as she… that would most likely cause the interference with her and (she assumed) their machines.

It also stood to reason that, whomever it was that was causing the interference- must be very smart. One would need to be in order to operate a machine such as hers. Perhaps then, they would be able to recognize a simple greeting. If turning the machine off and on produced a changing intensity in the glow of the atom, then simple logic might dictate that one should be able to use that to their advantage.

Her Morse code was rusty- she hadn’t used it since she was a young girl but- like riding a bike, it came back to her at an impressive rate. Switching the machine on and quickly turning it off again became a dot- whereas leaving it running for a moment became a dash. The process was painstakingly slow, but eventually Rosalind had spelled out a message to her mysterious colleague.

**[.... . .-.. .-.. ---](http://archiveofourown.org/works/) **

Now she just prayed that whomever it was on the receiving end had been paying attention.

As the minutes passed, however, Rosalind became increasingly worried that it had been for naught. With no reply to speak of, she began to wonder if the entire experience had just been something her brain had imagined- perhaps to cope with the unusually large amount of research she had been doing as of late. She had all but given up hope when the light in the room began to flicker, much similar to how it had when she sent her message. Lutece held her breath as the dots and dashes came, seeming even slower than when she had sent her message. She jotted down letters as they came, her eyes never leaving the incandescence of the Field.

Finally, when the letters seemed to have stopped, she read back the message:

**[.... . .-.. .-.. ---](http://archiveofourown.org/works/) **

To say she was elated would be an understatement. This was nothing short of a scientific breakthrough and it was her, Rosalind Lutece, who had done it. Quickly, she set to work sending out another message. If her colleague on the other side was anything like her, they were sure to be just as ecstatic about things. And as devotees to science, they were practically obligated to conduct a simple question and answer session. This was history in the making, after all. It would, of course, be remiss of her to not ask the most obvious questions first.

[ **... .--. . -.-. .. . ... ..--..** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/)

[ **.... ..- -- .- -.** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/)

[ **\--- -.-. -.-. ..- .--. .- - .. --- -. ..--..** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/)

 

[ **.--. .... -.-- ... .. -.-. .. ... -** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/)

  


The day (and much of the night) dragged on like this, Rosalind sending questions to her colleague and them- _him_ , answering. And though the process was slow, the physicist found she didn’t mind. It was wonderful to talk to someone like herself, so much so that she didn’t mind the time it took to communicate.

But as the sun threatened to rise, it occurred to Rosalind that perhaps sleep was in her best interest. She can’t very well conduct a conversation whilst in danger of nodding off. He seemed to agree. But still, she couldn’t help but offer one last question.

[ **-. .- -- . ..--..** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/)

If the two were going to be working together- she assumed neither of them wanted to end their interaction after one meeting, it might be helpful if she had something to call him other that ‘her colleague’. The answer came, a few minutes later:

[ **.-.. ..- - . -.-. .** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/)


	2. Chapter 2

Admittedly, Rosalind kept the information of other worlds to herself for longer than was probably necessary. She and the other Lutece, whom she came to know as Robert, mutually agreed that- though the science on it was indeed sound (and they would know, having both run an endless amount of tests on the matter), the world at large was not prepared for the reality of alternate dimensions. And that was perfectly fine for Rosalind; though the discovery was one that needed to be shared with the world eventually, she was perfectly content with keeping the information- and Robert, to herself for the time being.

But as the days turned to weeks, telegraphing through worlds became less satisfying- each message took eons to send, and each response took an eternity to arrive. The Luteces wished for more- a physical connection. 

It was one day in particular- an unseasonably warm autumn day, when the next step in their relationship was proposed. The two had just finished a conversation encompassing the finer points of quantum theory when Robert wondered if it might be possible to take the basic elements of the Lutece Field and… somehow advance them, to something more extreme. Curious, Rosalind requested an elaboration- though she was certain she knew exactly what Robert was suggesting.

She herself had already dreamt of the possibilities; if they were able to further develop the Lutece Field- to magnify the effects so that it was able to view not one, but several million atoms at a time… it was very plausible that the two might be able to meet, face to face.

The only foreseeable hurdle, Rosalind speculated, would be the matter of procuring enough funds to ensure that the project would be feasible. Though she was reasonably wealthy, the various costs of such a massive undertaking would be far greater than what she might be able to afford alone. But perhaps… with a benefactor, the project could become reality.

~~~

Unsurprisingly, it had taken a good bit of convincing on Rosalind’s part to persuade Comstock into acknowledging the mere possibility of alternate worlds. He had rejected the notion countless times- spouting off some ridiculous religious nonsense anytime she even dared broach the subject. It wasn’t until Lutece managed to corner Comstock, calmly explaining that alternate universes did- in fact, exist and, if he wished, she could show him.

And that had been all he needed.

All it took was an hour with the Field, and with Robert, for Comstock to decide that Rosalind’s discovery was a sign from God- a gift to the righteous people of Columbia to help in their mission to cleanse the Sodom below. He seemed convinced that the entire situation was some sort of divine prophesy come to pass, and wasted no time in commissioning Lutece to figure out a way of better understanding the universes- to see into them more clearly. Rosalind never particularly cared for “The Prophet’s” pious rants, but Comstock’s interest (and his money) in the project meant that work could begin on what the two Luteces ultimately agreed on naming “the Lutece Tear”.

Turing the Lutece Field into the Lutece Tear was a long and laborious undertaking, and though Rosalind in no way underestimated her brilliance, she was positive that the feat would have been impossible were it not for her and Robert’s combined intellect. After nearly a year of seemingly endless calculations, tinkering, and frustrations (and more than a few emergency renovations to the Lab), the Tear machine was complete and ready to test.

It was early October now, and though the climate of Columbia was already giving way to the harsh realities of winter, that day had been abnormally sunny- vaguely reminiscent of an August afternoon. Drawing the curtains to the Lab, Lutece couldn’t help but smile to herself. The weather was hardly appropriate for what was about to transpire; these sorts of events were usually depicted as occurring during some sort of inclement weather- thunderstorms or gale force winds. It was as if the universe itself was being caught off guard by what they were about to accomplish.

Comstock had insisted on being present, of course. And Rosalind could hardly blame him for wanting to be- how often does one have to opportunity to be present for history in the making? If it had been up to her, she’d have the entire thing filmed and shown to the public. This was groundbreaking science- a life changing discovery, and yet it was being squandered by Comstock’s insistence that the entire project be kept under wraps.

Rosalind fumed silently on the matter as she readied the machine for its debut. Comstock was seated in the parlor- close enough to have an excellent view, but far enough so that he would be (at least, he _assumed_ ) safe in the event of a failure, and was rattling off another sermon. She couldn’t for the life of her, figure out why he wasted his time preaching to her; Rosalind knew as much as Comstock did that he was a fake. In the end, she supposed the only reason she humored his delusions was because of the opportunities that existed for her in Columbia. This sort of work would be ridiculed down below; in Columbia, it was welcomed. There was a loud electrical hum suddenly as Rosalind brought the machine to life, thankfully loud enough to drown out Comstock. Everything seemed to be in order; all that was left to do was input into the machine the information that would- hopefully, open a door to the other world.

This was it- the moment she and Robert had spent countless nights dreaming and planning for. Rosalind grasped the lever which would open the tear tightly, suddenly finding her stomach twisted into terrible knots.  There was no discernible reason for her to be nervous; the machine was sound- it _would_ work properly. But still she found that, in that moment, the weight- the very reality of the situation had finally hit her. And it was simultaneously terrifying and awe-inspiring.

With one last deep breath, she threw the lever and, all at once, the room was bathed in an unnatural blue-gray glow and filled with the crackling and snapping of electricity. Unconsciously, Lutece backed up several paces, though it was more as a means of getting a better view of the scene than a fear reaction. Rosalind watched, enthralled, as a tiny line of blue light appeared in the heart of the machine and gradually began to grow- until it was nearly five feet tall. Then, as if on cue, the light split in two and widened, revealing as it did so, a scene similar to the one taking place in her lab. Visible in the tear was a lab nearly identical to her own, full of books and chalkboards, tesla coils and wiring. But most importantly, it held him.

And it was as if time and space ceased to be.

Rosalind could only stare at the man standing before her, studying him intensely. His eyes, his hair- even the structure of his face was alarmingly similar to her own. Of course, she knew there would be similarities (one can hardly expect ones’ counterpart from another world to _not_ look at least a _little_ similar), but she hadn’t expected him to look _so much_ like her. They could be twins. But... they were more than twins, weren’t they? He was, for all intents and purposes, _her_.

She closed the gap between her and the machine, no longer feeling the least bit anxious and gingerly, reached out a hand, letting it hover uncertainly an inch or so away from the tear. Robert blinked at her, his eyes flitting between her eyes and hand, before reaching out his own and touching it to hers, intertwining their fingers. There was a small shock as they touched- a discharge of some stray static electricity, no doubt, but in that moment it felt much more symbolic.

Bowing his head slightly, Robert released Rosalind’s hand momentarily before grasping it again and placing a small kiss to the back of it. “A pleasure to finally meet in person, Madame Lutece.”

With a smile, Rosalind took her hand from him and gestured for him to begin sending his things through the tear. “Welcome to Columbia. I trust you’ll feel right at home here.”

“With a stunning companion such as yourself by my side? No doubt.”

The female Lutece could do little more than let out an amused chuckle as she took a bag from Robert and turned to place it on a counter.  “Luckily your skills as a physicist far outweigh your talents as a comedian. Otherwise I’d fear we’d still be communicating through Morse-“

“ _Lutece_.”

Whirling around, Rosalind turned to face Comstock curiously. In all the commotion, she’d nearly forgotten he was in attendance. Comstock was pointing towards the tear, a grim expression on his face. Anxiously, she turned to face her counterpart again, and found him- not only through the tear, but looking quite confused, as if he was suddenly unaware of where he was.

“…Robert? You’re bleeding.”

Robert turned to her, frowning, and brought a hand up to touch his nose. As he pulled his hand away and brought the scarlet streaked thing to eye level, Robert gazed at Rosalind, looking more confused by the moment. “Yes, I- I appear to-“ Then, as if turning off a switch, he was out, falling into a lifeless heap on the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a/little/ blood in this one. just a fair warning~

After some difficulty, Rosalind and Comstock succeeded in situating Robert on a sofa by the fireside in her parlor. Luckily, Robert had somehow managed not to hit his head on anything particularly hard and- as far as Rosalind could tell, his vitals seemed normal.

And that made the fact that he was in and out of consciousness for several hours afterwards all the more concerning.

Rosalind had, after a good deal of convincing, managed to coax the Prophet into leaving for the evening. Having Comstock around while she tended to the other Lutece was bound to be bothersome; in the short time following Robert’s arrival, Comstock had already launched into no less than three separate religious rants, at least one of which centered around the evils of using science to “thwart God’s will”. That speech in particular had earned him a cold glare from the female Lutece and a tirade of her own on leaving matters of science to those who rely on more than fear and theatrics to make a living. That had shut him up straight away.

Now, finally, Rosalind could devote herself to Robert.

 

She had just come from the kitchen, a pitcher of water and several handkerchiefs in tow, when it occurred to her that the other Lutece was awake, sitting upright on the sofa and rubbing his temples. Hastily, she set the items on a coffee table and sat beside him. He shifted slightly and offered her a smile. “I’d assumed you’d gone out.”

She arched an eyebrow and scoffed in return. “What? And leave you here to bleed all over my parlor? Hardly.”

Robert sunk deeper into the sofa with a laugh. “Well I don’t expect I’ll be doing anymore bleeding anytime soon. You and your parlor can rest easy.”

Scooting to the edge of the sofa, Rosalind leaned forward to pour a glass half full of water and handed it to Robert. “The hemorrhaging is a rather unfortunate side effect to the transfer. As are the blackouts. But I suppose, in the end, we should be grateful our universes didn’t implode upon themselves. “

Robert took the glass as she offered it and put it to his lips. But something about her statement caused him to stop short. It didn’t add up. He… remembered working on the tear machine with his sister, even managing to turn it on. But he couldn’t recall any sort of transfer. The two had merely opened a tear; they had agreed to refrain from tampering in other worlds for the time being… hadn’t they? Robert set the glass down on the table and ran a hand through his fiery hair. No, he distinctly remembered being on the other side of the tear- a universe away. It was as if there were two separate memories in the same place; and that alone was enough to give him a splitting headache.

“ _Damn_ , you’re bleeding again. Here, tilt your head back.”

Rosalind cupped Robert’s chin then, the urgent tone in her voice cutting through the fog in his head, and gently tilted his face upward, bringing a handkerchief to his gushing nose. She continued to speak to him, her tone melting into one more soft and soothing, but Robert was having an incredible amount of difficulty focusing on what exactly was being said. His brain felt as if it were short circuiting; every fired synapse brought on another wave of confusion and served to only make the stabbing pain in his head worse. It wasn’t until Rosalind ran a delicate thumb across his cheek that Robert was able to grasp some semblance of focus. Wearily, he took hold of the hand on his face and gave it a grateful squeeze.

“You’ve always been there for me, dear sister…”

Rosalind pulled the handkerchief away from Robert’s face and looked at him curiously. The confusion at her mention of his symptoms, the pain he was clearly in because of it- the fact that he had just referred to her as his sister- this was far more concerning than she had originally thought. Frowning, she pulled her hand from his grasp. “No, I haven’t.” He blinked back at her, uncertainty written on his face, and replied hesitantly. “No… you haven’t, have you?”

~~~

The next few weeks went by much like that initial day did: with more confusion, false memories, and lots of blood. Fortunately, it had taken the Luteces (admittedly, Rosalind more than Robert) very little time to work out what had happened to him. In the broadest sense, the false memories were, in a way, the universe correcting itself. By supplying Robert with the false memories, it was essentially creating a place for someone who, for all intents and purposes, did not belong. This theory was strengthened when Rosalind sat one day to question Robert about his memories and found that, in his mind, the two had been together much longer than the few weeks they had known each other; in Robert’s mind, the two were twins, and had lived their whole lives together. Rosalind had been captivated by the clarity with which he was able to recount events from their childhood- events which, as she knew, had never occurred.

Robert’s inability to discern between reality and the memories given to him by the transfer was what bothered Rosalind the most- so much so that she had quickly taken up a habit of dictating notes for Robert to play back via Voxophone whenever he was without her company and feeling particularly out of sorts. They were short, each one was hardly more than thirty seconds long, but each of Rosalind’s recordings provided a small amount of comfort to Robert- though whether it was because of the sound of her voice, the way she had begun referring to him as ‘brother’, or because- somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he knew she was right about everything, he just couldn’t tell.

There _were_ brief moments of clarity for Robert, however, that weren’t a product of his sister’s help. Occasionally, he’d reference something from his world, or mention a childhood memory that didn’t involve Rosalind. But those moments were few and far between and were usually immediately followed by an episode of confusion and more blood loss.

But the days turned to weeks and, steadily, Robert grew accustomed to the dual sets of memories- eventually developing his tolerance to the dissonance enough that he was able to slip seamlessly from memory to memory. Of course, there was the occasional hiccup- a small nosebleed here, a migraine there, but for the most part, he was adjusted.

It was one day especially when Rosalind took notice of the totality with which Robert had accepted his new life with her. The two had been hard at work, peering into other universes- occasionally reaching in and pulling something to their world, and taking notes on the effects, when they decided to break for lunch. The Luteces found, during one of their many talks, that it was a shared habit of theirs to forget to eat every once in a while- mostly on days during which experiments were being conducted. Since then, the twins had been meticulous in keeping a set time every day to have lunch together- mostly out of a mutual concern for the other’s health. Rosalind had just come from the kitchen (in the interest of equality, the two agreed that the responsibility of lunch would fall to them both, and they switched off every other day; incidentally, this is how Rosalind learned of Robert’s impeccable skills as a cook.), a tray of food in tow, and paused to watch as her brother continued to work, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she’d returned.

She enjoyed watching him work; Robert would often get so caught up in a difficult calculation that he sometimes spoke aloud to himself, trying to work the problem out. Rosalind found it endearing- though admittedly, less so since the day he pointed out that she did the same.

“You’re staring. And since we both are well aware that staring is considered rude in most circles, I can only assume you’ve something on your mind.”

“Hmm?” Rosalind was suddenly brought back to the present and found that, she was indeed, staring a hole into her brother. She could feel her cheeks burning under his expectant gaze. “I know. I simply… I hadn’t expected you would-“

“-be this handsome?” Robert crossed the lab with a smirk, reaching out to the tray and grabbing an apple off it with a wink. Rosalind could do little more than frown at him, though her expression was entirely lacking in malice.

“I hadn’t expected you would _adjust this rapidly_. I’d expected you’d still be a blithering mess, bleeding all over my notes and furniture.”

It was Robert’s turn to frown then, mock hurt written on his face. His sister merely smiled and took the apple from him, turning to grab a knife so she could slice it. The male Lutece took a seat, and pondered Rosalind’s statement as she worked.

“Well, we _are_ a brilliant individual- in either universe. And the brain _does_ adapt. I suppose it was only natural that I would adapt to the change more rapidly than another might.”

“Another?” She placed the apple on a small plate and took a seat across from her brother. “Are we planning on another transfer in the foreseeable future, dear brother?”

“Anything is possible, my dear sister. Who’s to say what tomorrow holds for us?”

“Tomorrow? We’ve a meeting with Comstock.” She sipped nonchalantly from a glass of lemonaid, purposefully ignoring the delightful look of mild irritation on Robert’s face. She enjoyed these chats between them- the biting back and forth banter was refreshing. Everything about having Robert in her life was refreshing; simply having someone around to talk to who understood her to her very core, was like no feeling she’d ever felt before.

And though she’d admit that he may have a point about the future, Rosalind Lutece also would attest that there was no point in worrying about it presently. For the moment, she chose to simply focus on the most important thing:

They were together and finally, she was content.


End file.
